Ophelia Potter and the Elixir of Life
by Dryd Aykma
Summary: Ophelia Potter, born to Lily and James Potter, was the only one left after an attack from Voldemort Follow her journey through her first year at Hogwarts as she comes to grips with the Wizarding World at large. So yeah, it's another fem!Harry story. I figured I'd throw my hat in. The story will diverge from canon at some point, though not too much here. Rated T just to break bones.


Disclaimer: Anything taken or twisted from the Potterverse is owned by J. K. Rowling. I own essentially none of this.

* * *

**Ophelia Potter and the Elixir of Life**

**Chapter One: A New Family**

* * *

Petunia Dursley was perfectly normal, thank you very much. In fact, if ever you were to suspect her of being involved in something strange or odd, most people would call you mad. She was a wife to a very important man in the tool industry, and a mother of a beautiful little blond boy.

When Vernon had left for his job that morning, Petunia had made sure to peck each of his cheeks and make sure he did the same to Dudley, all the while making sure that Vernon noticed Dudley's new word.

"Shan't!" Dudley had been yelling while his father attempted to peck his son's cheeks. Vernon gave up but beamed at his energetic son.

"Little tyke!" He said with a chuckle as he left the house and waved goodbye to Petunia and Dudley.

Hours had gone by since then and Petunia had rushed about the house making sure everything was neat and tidy as it should always be. It was a task that should not have been difficult given the usual state of the house, but Dudley did not want to be left alone for a single moment and wailed endlessly unless he was attended to. So, after much effort, Petunia managed to make sure every room of the house was picture perfect.

By the time the clock reached one o'clock, Petunia's bony cheeks were red from exhaustion. Unfortunately, the fridge was not currently the holder of butter, and Petunia would not let herself rest if something was amiss in the house.

After ten minutes of struggling with Dudley, Petunia finally had him quite safely in his buggy and had left the house to take the walk to the supermarket. It was not a long walk but Dudley made sure that it would take twice as long as it normally would have. Every now and then, one of the toys that was meant to keep him occupied would find itself launched towards the pavement. Petunia must have picked them up well over twenty times before they reached the supermarket. Even then, he didn't let up. Wailing, Dudley flung his toys another eight times while his mother searched, found, and purchased the butter that was missing from her home.

After she had left the supermarket, butter in the undercarriage of the buggy, Petunia made to walk back the way she had came but paused when she saw a group of people. There were three of them, all huddled together, all wearing robes or cloaks, two of them wearing odd little pointed hats. Their manner of clothing was most certainly not appropriate for public appearance in Little Whinging, or perhaps anywhere. Unfortunately for Petunia, she recognised the style of clothing. They were all dressed in the same manner her wretched sister Lily had occasionally wore, her and her horrid group.

Petunia deliberately made to cross the road - it wouldn't do to have Dudley being near such people. She decided against it after she happened to overhear the conversation the robed strangers were having

"-a horrid affair." The smallest of the group had said, shaking their head sadly.

"It was the Potters, wasn't it?" The only woman there said. Petunia could have sworn she wasn't there a moment ago.

The name Potter was not one Petunia wanted to hear. It was the surname her sister had taken after she'd got married to that wretched boy she'd met in her horrid school. The two of them had married a couple of years after they'd left school. Not long after, a child was brought into their family. It was a girl - which they named Ophelia - and she was a year younger than Dudley was. This was the biggest reason the Dursleys did not want to be anywhere near the Potters - it just wouldn't do to have Dudley anywhere near those freaks lest they attempt to influence him - though they didn't need much of an excuse to remain distant from that part of Petunia's side of the family.

Petunia crept slowly towards the group. Her curiosity had gotten the upper hand and she wanted to hope beyond hope that it was some other Potter family that the group was talking about. The next snippet she heard dashed those hopes.

"-their daughter, Ophelia-" One had said, but Petunia did not bother to hear the rest of the conversation. She set off at a faster than normal pace and made her way home, across a different set of roads in a desperate attempt to not come across any more of the oddly dressed people.

By the time they returned home, the clock had reached quarter to three and Dudley's toys had a fair amount of scuff marks upon them. This wasn't much of a problem so much as it was just something that happened. Petunia put the toys away and carted the thankfully sleeping Dudley into the cool conservatory and hoped he didn't wake while she busied herself with making sure the various pots and pans in the kitchen were impeccably clean.

The blinds were closed to block away the unusual harshness of the sun - as it had taken to sticking the traditional unpredictability of British weather - and Petunia Dursley would have been thankful of it if she had seen what was going on outside. Hordes of owls were flying around outside; animals that Petunia took great discomfort with. Occasionally, they could be seen carrying envelopes of different shapes and sizes. Even less occasionally, an owl that was not carrying anything would fly into Mrs Dursley's garden, or the garden of one of her neighbours, and find a place for it to perch on. Those owls would also be thankful for the kitchen blinds being closed; they would have been shooed away the moment Petunia laid her beady eyes upon them - and owls as tired as these were would not be at all pleased with such rudeness.

Several hours and cleaned utensils later, the front door of Number Four swung opened and the empty hallway was quickly filled with the bulging form of Vernon Dursley. He made his way into the kitchen to receive his greetings from Petunia before shuffling into the living room and switched on the television set.

Petunia took the dulled noise from the television as a cue to get dinner started. She threw food in the places it needed to be to cook and tended to them for a time. It wasn't long until her cooking routine was interrupted - an occurrence that was rarer perhaps than even winning the jackpot in the lottery.

"Erm... Petunia, dear?" Vernon's voice sounded from the living room.

"Yes, dear?" Petunia said, a lot sharper than she would have if she wasn't so surprised by the slight interruption. When Vernon replied it was - and this was possibly the first time in her life she'd heard it - timid.

"Your sister, what is it she has, a son?"

"A-a girl. She has a daughter, Vernon." Petunia said. An odd mixture of surprise and anger crept upon her. It was already odd enough for Vernon to talk to her while she made dinner, but to talk about her family? That was something they'd already agreed to pretend didn't exist.

"Oh right," Vernon said, sounding downtrodden, "name's Janet or something, isn't it?"

"Ophelia." Petunia spat, disgust in every syllable. "Disgusting name."

"Quite... Quite right."

"Why do you ask?" Petunia probed. Her interest piqued.

"Weird stuff on the telly... Odd people outside..." He mumbled, "thought it might have something to do with her lot."

"Vernon!" Petunia snapped. It was a curious thing thing that Vernon would have came across the same kind of people she had earlier but it was not curious enough to abate any anger she would feel for having Vernon talk about said kinds of people. Not least because it was his idea to pretend their kind never existed in the first place.

Not another thing was spoken that night. Not even Dudley made any manner of loud noise. Normally, this would be an ill omen for Petunia. Today, however, after talk of odd people and going ons it was a welcome calm. The thoughts of peace, quiet, and normality were all smashed to pieces soon after and replaced with the void that was sleep. However, if she were to have looked out of the window that night, those same thoughts would have been obliterated for an entirely different reason.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not a man of action. At least, he wasn't any more. Even something as simple as apparating was a horrid drain on his strength that he didn't like to do so unless entirely necessary. Tonight was one of those times. On the corner of Privet Drive, just out of the illuminating cones of any street lamp, he appeared with a dull pop. Dressed from head to toe in a series of incredibly formal looking robes, with every piece coated with purples, reds, greens, and golds. If it weren't for their natural aversion to anyone wearing anything so strange as odd socks, the people of the small road would surely have presented a level of respect befitting an ambassador of some kind.

From within his brilliant robes, Dumbledore removed a large silver device that did not look unlike a lighter. What it did was most unlike one, however. With each click, a ball of light would escape from a street lamp and find it's way to the un-lighter. Dumbledore continued to do this until the only remaining light source was one he'd never wish gone - the light reflected off of the moon.

Curiously, it wasn't until all the lights had been removed that Dumbledore noticed the tabby cat sitting quite attentively on a garden wall. A hollow chuckle escaped his mouth, and the cat leapt towards him. It's paws never touched the ground. Instead, the feet of a familiar witch gently placed themselves a couple of meters in front of his. The smile that Dumbledore wore was not reflected on this woman's face. If anything could be said for her expression, it was that not even the greatest painter could do her anger justice.

"Albus." She started sharply, "what do you think you're doing here? You can't honestly be serious about going through with this?" Though her voice was hushed so as not to wake any of the road's sleeping residents, it cut into Dumbledore worse than even the longest, most vitriolic rants he occasionally endured from angry letter writers.

"Minerva, please, it must be done." He pleaded.

"Nonsense. There's no end to the number of families that would do a better job than those neanderthals in Number Four. You can't honestly say that these people are the best chance, can you?"

"I'm afraid that really is the case. But the question now is; How do you know this? I thought I'd made sure nobody knew of this."

"Albus, you trusted Hagrid with this information. I'm surprised the whole of Hogsmeade doesn't know what you're doing here." Her words pierced Dumbledore's balloon of secrecy, and left him feeling deflated.

"I did not think Hagrid would have such loose lips." Dumbledore withdrew a wand from another of his robes many pockets and gave it a quick flick. No sooner after he finished had a bench that looked every part of the road had risen out of the ground by the curb. He sat down, looking crestfallen. "I may have to speak with him when he gets here."

"And when might that be?" Minerva demanded.

"He shouldn't be any longer than a few hours." When he noticed Minerva's shocked look, he expanded. "He has no quick method of transport. You know a broom wouldn't take his weight, and I doubt a Thestral would be in any way subtle for him. The Knight Bus is completely out of the question as well.

"I have planned for any eventuality, Minerva." He added, when her look simply became more hardened. "If he does arrive early, I am already here. I have a letter ready if that happens." No sooner had he withdrawn it from his robes had it been snatched from his hands.

"A letter is not going explain everything to these people!" Minerva's voice was steadily rising now, and Dumbledore's hands were trying to prompt quiet back into it. "These people hate us, Dumbledore! I've been here all day, I was in their back garden around dinner time. Do you know what I heard? They despise the very name of Lily Potter. They won't be persuaded by a sheet of parchment!" With that, the last vestiges of security his plan had were washed away.

"The plan can't be changed now, Minerva. Unless we wish to lock her away in a Gringotts vault, there is no safer place."

"Albus, surely the plan must be changed! We can't leave her with these people. If we do, all that will come of it would be a very upset eleven year old by the time she starts school. You must have other options. What about the Longbottoms?"

"The Longbottoms are in just as much danger as the Potters were."

"The Prewitts?"

"I'm sorry to say that both Gideon and Fabian were both killed last week." Dumbledore hanged his a little lower out of sadness, but Minerva pressed onwards, unperturbed.

"The Weasleys then?"

"They already have six children, Minerva. I don't doubt their aptitude, but burdening them with another child, especially with the one in question, would be unthinkable."

Minerva would not be stopped, however. For the next few hours, she went through a list of every person she knew, including Dumbledore and herself. Each time she was rebuffed, but she seemed certain she'd be able to come up with a name that she would get no objection. She wouldn't let Ophelia Potter grow up in a household where she believed that all those around her, relatives or not, would hate her very being.

The sun had begun to rise, and yet there was still no sign of Hagrid. Dumbledore was growing increasingly worried, and he was sure that Minerva would soon find a name that he couldn't convince her would be a poor change of plan. She had been making suggestions for hours and there was no sign of her letting up.

Just as the gaps between name suggestions started to get in the five second range, Dumbledore could see the unmistakeable silhouette of Hagrid approaching them. He stood up and made to walk towards Hagrid, hoping that this would now be an end to it when Minerva said, possibly at her loudest since starting, "What about Amelia Bones?"

This name caused Dumbledore to falter in his stride. He turned to face Minerva, "You want me to hand over a child, one that would best be served to be kept in secrecy, to the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? Minerva, I wish to ensure Ophelia lives, not throw her to the wolves!" He began to to turn back to Hagrid, feeling that he had finally heard enough objections to this plan after such a weak suggestion. He was sorely mistaken.

"Albus, you know as well as I do that a position in the Ministry is not the equivalent of a Dark Mark. Madam Bones would never give away anything entrusted to her, and her position ensures protection, rather than deny it." Once again, Dumbledore turned. Minerva denied him the chance to rebuke and continued her assault. "She doesn't have any children to look after, so there's no issue of overburdening. She was one of the brightest pupils ever to pass through the halls of Hogwarts, and one of the best Head Girls I've ever seen. If you need any more, at least consider her house. I don't wish to see the day where you'd consider a Hufflepuff untrustworthy." Where Minerva broadened her shoulders and made herself look taller, Dumbledore's poise fell, along with his spirits. What he had been given was as good as an ultimatum. He knew she hadn't said anything like it, but he wouldn't want to risk losing the Transfigurations Professor. She was a brilliant asset to the school, and one of few people he was willing to confide in.

"Very well, Minerva." He conceded. "You may take Ophelia to Madam Bones. I dare say you might be more convincing than I. There are things I will need to do now, anyway. I don't believe Cornelius will be very happy with two meetings over two days, but there are things that I'll need his co-operation to put into place. Take Ophelia to Madam Bones' manor; I'll send word if we get the necessary sanctioning." Dumbledore didn't wait for Minerva's response, instead turning on the spot immediately. The horrid feeling of apparating did nothing to alleviate his feelings.

* * *

After Dumbledore had left, Minerva was left staring at a bewildered, and burdened, giant of a man. As she walked up to him, the man straightened himself up. "Good morning, Hagrid." Minerva greeted him curtly.

"Morning, Professor McGonagall." He replied. He looked slightly hesitant before he continued, "I'm not sure it's my place to ask, professor, but what's goin' on? Professor Dumbledore asked me to bring Ophelia here - an' I can tell that was a right pain, making sure I couldn' be followed - an' now he's left? An' what're we doin' with Ophelia, here?"

"There's been a change of plans, Hagrid." Minerva said. After a little bit of thought she thought that perhaps that was a bit too dismissive. Hagrid probably deserved to know anyway. "Rather than leave Ophelia with this abysmal family, I've managed to convince Dumbledore to move her somewhere she'll receive real care and love. Specifically, we'll be moving her over to Madam Bones' home. Dumbledore has just gone to visit the Minister to get some sanctioning." Hagrid merely nodded at this. While some might have taken this to be some signal that Hagrid was somewhat on the simple side of things, Minerva knew that Hagrid had no real failings when it came to intelligence. With his fierce loyalty to Dumbledore and his incredible affection and knowledge for what he called "interesting, or terribly misunderstood, creatures," Minerva often wondered why he wasn't teaching at Hogwarts yet.

"You got any idea why he wanted Ophelia here?" He asked, making Minerva realise she'd never actually asked Dumbledore that. Figuring she had a pretty good idea as to why, however, she answered.

"I expect he thought that family was where she belonged and would be loved." Minerva shook her head a little. "I know the man's a genius, but he assumes far too much of the importance of family to people. These Dursleys would doubtlessly have had poor Ophelia burnt at the stake if it were a few hundred years ago. He really must look into these things, especially when it seems to have as much importance as his actions imply." Again, Hagrid only nodded. Noticing the bundle that he was holding properly for the first time, Minerva moved closer and craned her neck to see the sleeping infant cradled in Hagrid's arms. "Has she been injured?" She asked tentatively.

"Nah. Been good as gold, she 'as." Hagrid chuckled, a movement which rocked Ophelia lightly. "Been asleep most o' the time, the poor kid. You want to take her now?" He asked, giving Minerva an inquiring look.

"One moment, Hagrid." Minerva took a step away from him, and reached a hand deep into her pocket. She soon withdrew a wand which, after a few good flicks, seemed to have an oddly wooden liquid flowing from the tip. It soon formed a pool in the space between the pair and slowly rose, taking a more solid form. After a few more moments, a rather comfortable looking bassinet was lying on the floor. Minerva stooped slightly to pick it but Hagrid beat her to it. By the time her hand reached the handle, Hagrid had gently placed Ophelia down and began lifting the bassinet.

"So, how're you getting there?"

"I think I might take the Knight Bus." Minerva said simply.

"Professor Dumbledore said that I ought not use that." Hagrid said simply, to which Minerva sighed.

"There should be no problem with me using the Knight Bus, Hagrid. Dumbledore didn't want you followed, by neither the Ministry or a Death Eater. While that might have happened at Godric's Hollow, at a house that both would have some level of knowledge of - with the Ministry keeping some level of track over what houses have the Fidelius Charm upon them, and the Death Eaters having at least a modicum of knowledge over where their precious leader goes - I doubt hailing the bus here, in a non-Ministry registered Muggle dwelling, will bring such a problem. Besides, I expect you do not wish to walk back to Hogwarts?" Once she'd finished speaking, Minerva held her left arm out as if hailing a taxi. Before Hagrid even had time to reply to her question, a triple decker bus appeared before the pair of them. Minerva climbed aboard with Hagrid soon following. After paying for both of their fares, Minerva found herself a seat. Hagrid sat on the row of chairs opposite her.

If there was any time to actually start a conversation, neither of them grasped it. The bus sped along through Britain, forcing letterboxes and lamp posts to jump out of the way of it's erratic course. It hadn't even been a minute since they had left Privet Drive that they were in the centre of Cardiff, picking up a handful of stuffy looking wizards who all paid somewhat handsomely and climbed the stairway to the top deck of the Bus. Seconds after that, the bus had started to speed through the streets of London, and at one point had actually managed to squeeze its way through an alleyway that was clearly never meant to take anything wider than a dustbin, let alone a bus.

Despite the loud bangs and screeches coming from the frantic motion of the Knight Bus, Ophelia stayed laying asleep in the bassinet, not bothered in the slightest by the cacophony erupting around her. Thankfully, the bus came to a stop after very little time so Minerva did not have to worry about testing the limits of the infant's obliviousness to noise. Minerva had to admit that, in light of what she was about to do, it was probably much more convenient to have a sleeping infant rather than a screaming one. She lifted the bassinet carefully and made her way off of the bus, giving Hagrid a slight wave goodbye which was returned, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

Stepping off of the bus brought Minerva to one of the lesser visited roads of Wizarding London. Small, and well hidden, the road came off of Whitehall and housed a handful of large apartments. Each of these apartments were, until just over a century ago, the traditional housing for the Heads of the various departments within the Ministry. While the buildings still received regular upkeep, the majority of them were empty, with their traditional inhabitants usually staying within their own dwellings; generally due to the apartments being a fair amount smaller than the family houses that most Heads would inherit from their pure-blood ancestry. This sparsity of residents was quite a boon for the current situation however, as there were currently no residents apart from Amelia Bones.

Minerva strode up towards the door, careful not to trip over either of the steps leading there. After knocking, Minerva had to wait for barely ten seconds before the door was pulled open by a rather annoyed looking Amelia Bones. The look of annoyance was quickly replaced with a mixture of shock, confusion and amazement once she realised who had knocked at her door.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall!" She started, straightening herself up a bit, much to Minerva's amusement. "What brings you here?"

"I think you're quite past the stage of addressing me as Professor, Amelia." Minerva smiled "And I'm afraid it's not a social call, I have something I have a rather urgent request for you. May I come in?" At her words, Amelia gathered herself and stood out of the way to let Minerva. Once Minerva had stepped inside and the door was closed, Amelia led Minerva into the front room. Both women took their seats on rather impersonal looking black sofas, Minerva placing the bassinet beside her.

"I'm assuming that you don't have the child with you to enjoy an outing together." Amelia's face was more professional now, even if her tone of voice was still as friendly as it had been moments before. "Yiu want me to care for the child." It wasn't a question. Her friendly tone had become more matter-of-factly, and Minerva supposed that it was to be expected; her intentions were hardly difficult to read.

"That is the case, yes." Minerva sighed. "I hope you trust me when I say I wouldn't burden you with this unless it was of the utmost importance. Whether you do or don't is still your choice, however. I hardly want you to feel pressured."

"Who is the child?" Amelia asked simply.

"Ophelia Potter." Minerva's statement was accompanied by a little gasp from Amelia. "I suppose you've heard the rumours then?"

"Well, of course I have. It's been hard to miss them with my job. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named dies and the whole world parties. I've had to go on the runabout Merlin knows how many times today. I doubt it's coincidence then, that Ophelia's name has been praised so much?"

"Unfortunately it is not coincidence, no." When this received a raised eyebrow, Minerva clarified. "Her parents were killed by You-Know-Who. No child should have to lose their parents, especially so young." She hung her head solemnly for a moment. The silence lingered for half a minute or so before Amelia spoke up.

"I'll take her in." She said simply. Minerva raised her head at this and gave a small smile. The smile soon faded, however, and she spoke in a more businesslike tone.

"Thank you, Amelia, truly. However, before I leave her here, Dumbledore wishes to get some sort of official sanction of secrecy from the Minister. I don't think he's going to get one, but I guess it's best to wait here until he sends word." Though she spoke formally, there was a clear amount of vitriol in her words that Amelia did not fail to pick up on.

"I take it you oppose the idea then?"

"Of course I do. No child should be locked away from the world. Can you believe he wanted to send her away to her horrid muggle relatives? The poor girl would have been treated incredibly poorly if I hadn't convinced Dumbledore otherwise. I don't see how he thinks that she could have a normal childhood if she's locked away, seeing as there's no doubt that she'll be headed to Hogwarts in just under ten years. Sometimes I wonder if he truly is mad." Minerva muttered that last sentence under her breath. Realising she had said it aloud, she attempted to cover it up rather quickly. "Anyway, I hope I don't insult your hospitality by offering you a drink? I always have a bottle of Worthington's Finest Mead with me at all times - a habit I'd picked up from my father - and I wouldn't want to waste an opportunity to actually use it for once. And please forgive me for drinking at this early hour, I've not had a wink of sleep for near enough a day now. It's felt like the right time for a fair few hours, for me."

Amelia agreed with a smile and headed out of the room to fetch some glasses. The bottle of mead had been taken out from one of Minerva's pockets and was open by the time Amelia returned. The conversation became much more lighthearted as the pair chatted idly about their work and the people they had to deal with, whiling away the minutes until Dumbledore's word appeared.

* * *

While the conversation between Amelia and Minerva carried on, a clearly disgruntled Albus Dumbledore was having a hushed argument with Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

"Why was I not informed of her whereabouts earlier, Dumbledore? Why was I not informed of what you were going to do? Surely you know how bad this would look if word got out?" Cornelius hadn't let up from the offensive ever since Dumbledore mentioned he had tried to place Ophelia with her Aunt and Uncle. He hadn't even given the headmaster a chance to explain the situation any further.

"'How bad this would look?' Fudge, am I to assume that you care more for public opinion and your office than you do for the child who has potentially saved the world from one of the most dangerous dark wizards we've ever seen?" Dumbledore had seized Cornelius' words, clearly believing he'd found an opening to exploit. Cornelius didn't back down though; he knew his reasoning a bit more than Dumbledore did.

"Don't you dare try to turn this around, Dumbledore. I could have you in court for this. It's grounds for kidnapping, for Merlin's sake! And you know too damn well that the only reason I won't do that is because nobody would benefit from it. Honestly, Dumbledore, you're a political nightmare. I hope you weren't this bad with poor Bagnold. Two weeks in and I'm already having to deal with your mess..." He began to trail off, but straightened himself out quickly. "But I digress. The real question is what you're going to do now. I hope you're not still intending on leaving the girl with those muggles." Cornelius also hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't prove to be any more antagonising than he was already. Any more pushing and Cornelius was certain he'd do something rash like having Dumbledore locked away.

"What is it you have against muggles-" Dumbledore began, quickly being cut off by Cornelius.

"I have nothing against muggles, they can do what they like. The problem I have is with you leaving this child in a muggle setting. It's foolish to assume that the poor girl will be ready for whatever rumours and build-up her return to our world will have waiting for her. Now, just answer the question, Dumbledore." Cornelius sharpened his tone in an effort to get Dumbledore to finally bear some fruits of co-operation. The sigh that followed his words seemed to have assured him that he had been successful.

"I've come to ask for a promise of sanctuary for Ophelia Potter." Dumbledore said, his tone becoming much more formal. "I wish to place her within the care of Amelia Bones, your Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I also wish to have some level of secrecy over the matter, for the sake of Ophelia's protection. I have no qualms about your Ministry, but I only want to ensure that the highest levels of protection are in place. I have my suspicions that Ophelia will be targeted by any ragtag followers of Voldemort if her whereabouts were known." It was all Cornelius could do to force back any kind of smug smile. While he wasn't feeling particularly happy or superior, he had some pride in getting Dumbledore to actually give him a straight answer. Instead of smiling, Cornelius settled for a sigh.

"I'm afraid I can't fully comply, Dumbledore. I'm willing to offer sanctuary to Ophelia Potter, and I'll have her in the care of Madam Bones if she is willing, but I will not hide the girl away. I won't publicise her whereabouts, goodness knows that neither Ophelia nor Madam Bones would be benefited by that, but hiding her would do her no good. It would only add fuel to the rumour-mill around her. It's best if we let people find out themselves. Besides, covering it up would put a strain on Ministry resources that I'd much rather put into getting Britain into a better state than it was in before all the trouble with You-Know-Who." Dumbledore opened his mouth, obviously about to raise an objection, but Cornelius quickly added, "These are the conditions Dumbledore. I will not make any special cases for you, Merlin knows that I've already done enough by keeping you out of Azkaban." Cornelius' had to struggle to stop smiling again as Dumbledore's face fell. He had forced Dumbledore into a corner and won. Today would most likely be one remembered often for the Minister. He hoped that this would at least give him some leeway where the Hogwarts Headmaster was concerned in the future.

"Very well, Fudge. I will give in to your terms." Dumbledore stood up from his chair and made his way to the fireplace within the Minister's office. He took handful of Floo Powder from the mantle, adding before he left, "Please visit Madam Bones soon. I expect she will have already made up her mind over whether or not to take Ophelia in." With that, the wizened headmaster threw the powder into the fireplace and disappeared from sight within the roaring emerald flames.

Cornelius could have danced with joy, but he held that notion back. He knew that Dumbledore would have already sent the child to Bones' house, being as insufferably arrogant as he was, so he knew he had a job to do. He threw on his hat and travelling cloak and let Anita, his secretary, know that he would be out on urgent business for the next few hours and wouldn't be taking any visitors. He wasted no more time, throwing the glittering powder into the fireplace and stepping into the brilliant green flames.

* * *

It was a shock for Minerva to see the Minister for Magic emerge from Amelia's fireplace instead of the Headmaster, but it was nothing compared to the intrigue she felt about the situation. Fudge had stepped into the room confidently and given both women a tip of his lime green bowler hat. Minerva remained silent, more interested in hearing why he had arrived rather than questioning him.

"Good evening Madam Bones, Professor McGonagall." Fudge greeted the pair of them quite genially, which Minerva had to admit did raise her spirits. "Well I've just come from a meeting with Albus Dumbledore, as I've no doubt the both of you know. It was a most intriguing meeting, if I may say so. He tells me that that child there is Ophelia Potter." He gestured towards the bassinet, Minerva nodding in confirmation. "And he tells me that he wishes for you, Amelia, to be the carer for Ophelia, though I expect Minerva here has told you all of this." He waited for them to nod before carrying on.

"Well, before I ask you what you think, Amelia, I feel I should explain the conditions under which you'd need to abide. Dumbledore had a few to give as well." Minerva's spirits fell at that. If Ophelia still had to live by Albus' rules, Minerva wasn't sure how much better off she'd be than if she still had to live with the Dursleys. "First, and foremost, is something I would hope you wouldn't need ordering to do; I want you to actually care for Ophelia as if she were your own daughter. I don't want to turn up here one day to find that she's being treated like a house elf. I know, however, that you're a better person than that.

"Secondly, I'd like you to keep this to yourself to some degree. I don't mean that you should hide her away, by no means. I just mean that I think it would be in the girl's best intentions if you didn't publicise her being here. With this "Girl Who Lived" name going around already, I don't wish to think what kind of storm you'd brew by telling everyone about her. I'll be using what leverage the Ministry has with the papers to downplay this whole business some, but there's no way that we can stop the rumours and legends. There's no doubt that everyone will know her name by the time she heads off to Hogwarts, but that doesn't mean we need to integrate the press into her life. Again, this is something I doubt you'd do anyway.

"Lastly, and this is more so you know what I'll be doing on my end, I must tell you that the Ministry will always be a have for Ophelia should she need one. This offer is already extended to all of Magical Britain, but given her unique circumstances, it must be said that there will be something of a high priority for her. And that's it. All I need now is your word that you'll take her in." The Minister finished talking with a smile on his face. It wasn't an arrogant one, but he stilled looked as though he knew Amelia's response before he had heard it. Before Amelia could say anything, however, Minerva spoke up.

"Minister, pardon me, but I was wondering something. You said that Professor Dumbledore had his own conditions to add. What were they?" Minerva asked, noticing Fudge's omission of Albus' 'total secrecy' terms, and perhaps others. Oddly enough, this gave the Minister's smile even more brightness.

"I said he had conditions to add. I didn't say that we would be adhering to them." He said slyly. Minerva was incredibly grateful for that, and returned Fudge's smile. All they had to do was wait for Amelia now.

"I see no reason not to take Ophelia in, Minister. And I see no reason why I would not abide by your conditions either." Amelia and Fudge both stood and shook hands at her words. After their hands parted, Amelia added, as though only just remember, "I expect there will be some paperwork involved? When should I see to that?"

"Oh, that? Well I'll need them written up soon. If you wouldn't mind visiting my office tomorrow morning and I'll have the necessary forms for you to sign." Amelia nodded at the Minister's words and watched as he strode over to the fireplace. After he disappeared through the green flames, Minerva informed Amelia that she too would be leaving.

Minerva chose to take the Knight Bus rather than the Floo Network, feeling she needed the extra few minuted of fresh air she'd get on the journey. Once she'd hailed the bus down and paid for her journey back to Hogwarts, she was truly glad of her decisions over the past few hours. The world was changing, and she hoped that had helped it change for the better, even if it was only for little Ophelia Potter.

* * *

**[A/N: YES! After a month or so of this sitting in my phone as a 700 word document, I've put in the hours of effort into kicking it up to 6000+ word opening chapter. Unlike my previous fic, 'Six Years,' I've got a more definite end in sight for this, seeing as it's one of many fem!Harry fics. I'm hoping to actually get this one done.**

**Six Years is put on an indefinite hiatus due to some level of writer's block. I like the premise, I like what I've started, but what I had written and planned for further ahead just seemed uninteresting after I'd read it through. I wanted an antagonist, but I've yet to come up with a decent one that won't be a rehash of Voldy. Plus, I think each chapter barely scraped the 4000 word mark. That's a nice figure, but I've proved with this that I can reach higher, and hopefully maintain some level of quality.**

**I will never again be posting any kind of schedule, at least not until next summer. I'm bogged down with college stuff at the moment, so writing fan fiction places about fifth on my list of things at the moment. I'm going to try and start putting a lot more time in though. If I ever do give a schedule, send me a hateful message. I'd probably deserve it.**

**This story's named "Ophelia Potter and the Elixir of Life" simply because I didn't to call it "Ophelia Potter and the Philosopher's Stone." Considering how similar these 'books' will be to the original, at least with this one, I wanted to give it a different name but still be linked. A runner-up name was "Ophelia Potter and the Mirror of Erised" but I didn't want the Mirror being in the title when it wasn't going to be as central to the story as the Stone was.**

**Finally, any questions, feel free to ask. I'll make sure to personally message back anyone that does ask something.]**


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